


The Frying Pan Incident

by Plus1STR



Series: Night Watch [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Cartinelli - Freeform, F/F, Femslash, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:49:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3473333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plus1STR/pseuds/Plus1STR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief run down of the frying pan incident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Frying Pan Incident

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [O Incidente Da Frigideira](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4840958) by [Rosetta (Melime)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melime/pseuds/Rosetta)



Angie and Peggy settled into Stark’s penthouse with a few hiccups; it was certainly an adjustment from sneaking about at the Griffith. 

It took Angie about a month to adjust to all of the empty space— she grew up one of six children and had gotten used to the scrambling women at the Griffith. Within the first week, Angie made it a point to sleep anywhere and everywhere she could; her bed, Peggy’s bed (with Peggy still in it), the spares, the drawing room furniture, the bathtubs, the dining room table, the kitchen floor, and even on the balcony. But after the glamour of having all of that free space wore off, the sudden lack of presence hit Angie like a ton of bricks, so much so that she talked Peggy into sharing a room.

Peggy on the other hand found the space comforting. There was no longer any need to sneak around and the lack of prying eyes made her life all the more easier. But that emptiness drove her mad at night; every little noise and shift had her up and armed at a moment’s notice, despite it usually being Angie getting water or something to snack on. She was more than relieved when Angie started creeping into her room at night and sleeping beside her and even more so when Angie “convinced” Peggy to share the room with her.

The two quickly fell into a neat routine with each other, but neither had intended on fitting Howard Stark into that routine. Howard had an awful habit of breaking into his old home; it didn’t seem to matter how many times Peggy had Jarvis change the locks, Howard Stark always found a way. He was nothing short of determined, especially when it came to entertaining one of his various guests which had been the reason for nearly every intrusion on his part. After the first five rounds of Peggy chasing Howard and his companion from the penthouse, throwing anything from her shoes to the cutlery, she and Angie mutually decided to try dead bolting the front door.

The following month had been particularly interesting for Peggy; at the office, Thompson could barely get his head through the door with how inflated his ego had become, Sousa chatted her up and gave her longing looks like a hopeful puppy, and she was stuck interviewing prospective new agents. Home had been a different story. She and Angie started a relationship, but the hours Peggy recently spent at the SSR had made it difficult for the two to spend ample amounts of time together despite living together. Angie took advantage of any opportunity that she could grab in ways that typically left Angie covered in little bruises paired with smeared lipstick stains and Peggy in various stages of undress and disarray.

And that is how Howard Stark found them the sixth time he broke into his former penthouse— he never explained to Peggy how he managed to get past the dead bolt. Peggy was propped up on the kitchen counter completely disheveled; her lipstick (or Angie’s lipstick) was smeared across her cheek, her hair escaped the hold of her hairpins, and her blouse was slipping off of her shoulders. One hand gripped the edge of the counter top so tightly that her knuckles had gone white and the other clawed at the fabric of Angie’s auto-mat uniform desperately searching for an anchor of some sort. She was hugged onto Angie so tightly that they might as well have been one body. It wasn’t until Peggy raised her head from the crook of Angie’s neck that she saw Howard standing there nodding his head in approval.

Peggy was thrown so off guard that she froze for a moment— her body stiffened and eyes widened holding Howard’s stare. The few brief seconds that followed after morphed her shock into anger and frustration; her fist tightened in the fabric of Angie’s clothing.

“Howard Stark, I am going to fucking kill you!”

But to both her and Howard’s surprise, Angie physically reacted first; she pushed away from Peggy, grabbed a frying pan from the pot rack that hung just beside Peggy, and stalked after Howard who ran as soon as Peggy all but snarled at him. Angie chased him in circles around the penthouse, waving the frying pan about, until he finally made a straight shot for the front door but, before he could toss is closed behind him, she threw the frying pan and managed to hit him. In the end, Howard left with a bruised tailbone and Peggy learned of a very colourful language that Angie had kept hidden from her.

Since then, Howard made it a point to use the bell.


End file.
